


Initiates

by MistoElectra



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gen, an idea behind chirrut's force sensitivity, baze is a guardian initiate, chirrut is a jedi youngling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistoElectra/pseuds/MistoElectra
Summary: Chirrut is a Jedi youngling who likes to speak into the night.Baze Malbus is a Guardian Initiate who listens.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleu_bee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleu_bee/gifts).



At five years old, the life of a Jedi youngling is the only life that Chirrut has ever known. 

He doesn’t remember his parents- too young when he had been brought to the Jedi Temple in the centre of NiJedha to recall much- and so he doesn’t miss them. They are out there somewhere on the moon, he presumes, because his name is Jedhan, and he is not so dissimilar to those others who hail from the moon, but then again, pilgrims travel from far and wide to visit the city, and his classmates are as varied as the stars in the sky. It’s a smaller site than Coruscant and he’s heard stories of the Temple there, but in truth, he thinks he prefers Jedha. Jedha has not only the Jedi temple, but the Temple of the Kyber. He has walked its halls once or twice and he will venture into its depths when he’s old enough to build his own lightsaber, but for the most part, it remains a mystery, across the plaza.

There are ten in his sleeping quarters in total, all around his age and level of training. He has friends amongst them, yes, but none he can quite call proper friends. He doesn’t overly mind. He gets along with them after all, and they practice together, but sometimes he wishes there was someone he could talk to. So sometimes he sits on the window sill, while everyone else is asleep and he just talks. Whatever comes to his mind, whatever he feels like saying. He tells stories of his day, comes up with fantastical tales, recounts his lessons by heart. No one is listening, but it lets off a little steam and he sleeps better for it.

Master Hemor is his favourite teacher. Master Hemor does not care that he’s blind, and he doesn’t make things any easier for him than he does for any other student. Chirrut likes that. He doesn’t want to be treated any differently. He wants to be able to prove that his blindness is no handicap to him, that he is as capable as his classmates. So he works hard, he puts in extra hours meditating and practicing both by himself and with whoever will spare him the time, and he pushes himself. And when he comes top of his class at the end of the month and Master Hemor claps him on the back lightly in congratulations, he allows himself a little grin of pride and resolves to make this a common occurrence.

This time when he sits awake, he decides to go a little further, climbing out of the window and out onto the Temple wall. It brings him that bit closer to the Temple of the Kyber, but he doubts highly that anyone is awake to hear him there, so he talks and he talks and he talks, finally slipping back inside just before the sun comes up. And not once does he notice the other boy peering from the window, too lost in his own story.

*****************

Baze Malbus is nine years old.

He’s been in the Temple of the Kyber since he was three, or at least that’s what Guardian Rax tells him. He can’t quite remember ever coming to the Temple. He has vague memories of a woman who he supposes is his mother, but the majority of his memories centre around his time in the Temple. It’s not uncommon for the Temple to take in children. Children of pilgrims, children of affluent families, or children like him, those who have nowhere else to go. They take them all in, house them, feed them, train them. 

Some stay and become Guardians, others leave and find work elsewhere.

He thinks he’d like to become a Guardian.

There’s a lot of training involved, forms and sparring and meditation and history, and it’s a lot to take in at times, but he drinks it in, taking in as much as he can. He’s at the top of his class in most aspects and he’s proud of that. 

Sometimes, when he has the spare time, he looks across the plaza at the Jedi temple and wonders what it must be like to train there. He can hear them sometimes, if he strains and listens, and Jedi come into the Temple of the Kyber on a fairly frequent basis. The Kyber caves are often their primary destination, and when he’s older, he’ll get to go there too, to help maintain the caves and also to pick a sliver of his own. It’s customary for Guardian initiates to enter to caves to pick their own sliver for use in construction of their weapons, just as it is customary for the younglings to seek the crystals for their lightsabers.

He likes to sit on the window sill of the sleeping quarters sometimes and watch the moon. Usually it’s peaceful, nothing much but the quiet hum of the city and faint voices in the night that he can’t quite make out, but for some reason this night, the noise is louder, a single voice closer and he peers out into the darkness.

It’s hard to make out, but eventually he distinguishes a shape on the wall of the Jedi temple just across from his window. It’s a boy, a youngling presumably, and he’s prattling away. He’s finally come top of his class, he says into the night, and the Master is glad with him. Baze isn’t entirely sure who he’s talking to, or if he should perhaps congratulate him, but he figures the boy is too far away to know he’s there, so he must be talking to thin air. 

What an odd boy. 

Nonetheless, he’s fascinated, so he sits and listens, and before he knows it, the sky is beginning to lighten. That’s when the boy tilts his head and shifts, clambering to his feet and darting across the wall and through a window with incredible speed.

He wonders if he’ll see him again.

****************

The first time they properly meet, Baze Malbus has just turned eleven and Chirrut Imwe is nearly seven. 

Guardian Rax has to go to the Jedi Temple, to deliver something from the archives there to one of the Jedi Masters, and as his apprentice, it’s Baze’s job to go with him. It’s an exciting prospect as he’s never been inside the Jedi Temple before, and it’s all he can do not to gape and stare as he finally gets to enter the hallways, eyes darting here and there.   
He manages to compose himself fairly quickly, focusing his eyes ahead, hurrying to keep up with his teacher. Baze considers himself tall for his age, but Guardian Rax is twice his height, and he has to take double the steps just to keep up, particularly at this speed.

Finally, they arrive at a room, and after knocking, Baze follows his teacher inside. There are only two people inside, a Jedi Master who he presumes is the one they have come to see, and a boy a few years younger than him. He’s dressed in the robes of a Jedi initiate, and although he hasn’t spoken, Baze recognises him immediately as the boy from the wall. He’s a little taller now, but Baze knows. Both of them turn towards the door, and Baze gets his first look at the boy’s face.

Jedhan, he can tell, with dark hair, but it’s his eyes that capture his attention.

They’re milky blue, with no pupils, like no eyes he’s ever seen before, and they don’t seem to quite focus on him. Rather they seem to look vaguely past him, at some point over his shoulder and he can’t quite figure out why.

“You’re dismissed Initiate Imwe. In fact...why don’t you bring Guardian Initiate Malbus so he can get something to eat,” the elder says and the boy bows respectfully.

“Yes, Master Hemor,” he answers, before moving out the door they just came in. He pauses, his head turning and Baze takes that as his cue to follow, hurrying after the young boy. Their journey is mostly silent, and the communal area where they get food is practically empty, so he presumes that now is not a typical meal time. Nonetheless, there is still food available, and he digs in. Now would be a meal time at the Kyber Temple, so he’s certainly hungry anyway.

“What’s your first name?”

He’s a little surprised by the question, raising his head before answering, “Baze. And yours?”

“Chirrut.”

Chirrut. It fits, somehow, he thinks, as he continues to eat, and the boy watches him with an almost unnerving stare for another few moments before he speaks again, his head tilted slightly.

“What’s it like living at the Temple of the Kyber? I’ve only been once or twice myself, but it seemed like a pleasant place.”

He’s a good few years younger than Baze, but right now he’s talking as if he’s the same age, maybe older, and Baze wonders if this is part of being a Jedi, this sort of serious maturity. And yet, he doesn’t seem entirely serious, there’s a hint of mischief in his gaze.

“Busy. We have a lot of classes. There are quite a lot of us though, so it can be a little noisy and busy, particularly at meal times. What’s it like being a Jedi?”

“I’m not a Jedi yet. But we have a lot of training too. It’s quiet though. I like it like that.”

Silence for a few moments. 

“I’ve seen you before, you know. It was a while back. You were sitting on the Temple wall, talking, almost all night.”

The other boy’s head snaps upright, and there’s a slight flush on his cheeks that makes Baze wonder if he should have revealed that or not. Chirrut seems...well, surprised, yes, and also a tad embarrassed at the admittance. But then Chirrut straightens up and shrugs.

“It’s peaceful. I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

He’s about to speak again when he’s disturbed by his mentor’s voice, and he realises that it’s time to leave. He’s almost a little regretful. He’d like to speak with Chirrut more, find out more about life as a Jedi initiate and how it differs from Guardian training, but he doesn’t have the time. A tad reluctantly, he pushes himself to his feet, bidding his goodbyes, but Chirrut has a large smile on his face, as if he knows something Baze doesn’t.

“Good luck, Baze Malbus. May the Force be with you,” the boy calls as he leaves, “We will meet again someday.”

Baze believes him.

*******************

Baze Malbus becomes a fully fledged Guardian at the age of sixteen. He works with the archives and as a Protector, and as such, he finds himself visiting the Jedi Temple quite often, as a messenger or to deliver things, or simply to stand guard on the Temple. It’s an uneventful job really, but he suddenly finds he’s seeing more of Chirrut.

The boy has grown, but then again, time will do that. He’s ten now- or is it eleven? Baze doesn’t know the boy’s birthday so he can’t be exactly sure. He’s busy with his training a lot, but he still seems to find time to come and sit with Baze on his duty, to keep him company. He chatters, speaks about his day and what he has learned, and it’s like that first night all over again, except this time the speech is for him.

As they speak more, he can’t help but grow fond of Chirrut. He’s still small, but there’s a ferociousness to him, a certain spark that sets him apart. He’s energetic, a constant bouncing ball, and yet there’s also something incredibly composed and its confusing. 

Still, it means his duties are never dull.

**************

Chirrut is glad when Baze begins to take duties. It’s not that he doesn’t get on with his classmates- they’re all very friendly and they’ve grown up together. They’re practically family, but for some reason he can talk with Baze more easily. The words just spill out, freely and easily, and he can get things off his chest. It helps he finds, and although it’s probably not what he should be doing as a Jedi in training, he can’t help it. It’s not affecting his training anyhow, so he doesn’t see any harm in it.

He’s ready for the Initiate Trials, Master Hemor says, and the prospect is both exciting and a little bit daunting. He’s confident that he can pass them and then he’ll be a Padawan, or at least he will be providing he gets chosen, and really, he can’t imagine not being chosen. Most people are chosen. And then he’ll be onto a completely new stage in his training. Perhaps he’ll get to leave Jedha, see the galaxy beyond this little moon. It all depends on his master.

His concentration on the trials though regrettably reduces the time he’s able to spend talking to Baze, but the older boy doesn’t seem to mind too much, merely wishes him luck, and gives him a smile that he can’t see but he can sense. For someone so observant, Baze hasn’t realised yet about his blindness, but Chirrut doesn’t mind and so he goes on about his business.

This is going to be a testing time.

******************

The next time Baze sees Chirrut, there is a metal cylinder at his belt and a hidden grin on his lips, and the Guardian can tell he’s been successful in his trials. He’s proud of him. Chirrut has worked hard, he’s barely seen him over the past few weeks due to how hard he’s been training, and now, so Chirrut tells him, he has to wait to be selected as a Padawan by a Knight or a Master. It could be quick, or it could take a little longer, but he’s hopeful.

Chirrut still comes to speak to him, week in, week out, but he can’t help but notice a difference as the time goes by. He seems a little disheartened, more so as a year passes, then another six months, and from what he can pick up about the Jedi order, Baze learns that Chirrut is running out of time to find a master. If no one picks him soon, he won’t be a Padawan. He’ll be reassigned somewhere else.

He can’t imagine it. To him, Chirrut is born to be a Jedi. He hasn’t seen much of what he can do, but he knows how hard Chirrut has worked, how often he’s been at the top of his class, and if anyone deserves this, he does. He can’t understand what could be putting them off.

He overhears two elders speaking about it one day while on his duties. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t help but listen in.

That’s when he finds out that Chirrut is blind. 

He’s not an overly angry man by nature, but the thought that Chirrut will have to give up something he’s worked so hard for just because he is blind seems like a crime to him. He would never have known, and he has to bite back the urge to speak his mind.

It’s just wrong.

******************

He has to go up before the reassignment council.

He’s known it was coming for a while now. He’s thirteen, and he has no Master. He cannot continue his training and therefore he must be reassigned. It hurts- it hurts more than he is willing to admit because he has to be in control of his emotions. He has been working towards becoming a Jedi all his life, and now...now he is going to have to give it up because no one will take him on. It’s crushing and he wants to scream and let out everything negative that he’s feeling.

Instead he meditates, repeating the mantra over and over to calm himself. It will do no good if he appears before the council in such a state, and it will only reaffirm to them that he is not fit to become a Jedi. So he meditates, he composes himself and he appears before the council.

If he thought the trials were daunting, they’re nothing compared to this.

“Padawan Imwe. You stand before this council because, despite passing the Initiate trials, you have not been selected by a Jedi knight or Master. Therefore you must be reassigned.   
However, the council is willing to take into account your own preference in regards to your reassignment, and if it is your desire to step away from the Order, that decision will be honoured.”

He pauses. He’s had time to think about this over the past few weeks. He does not wish to join the Agri Corps, but he doesn’t feel suited for any of the others either. 

Then it comes to him.

“Chief Councillor, I thank you and the rest of the council for your graciousness and your patience in this matter. While it is not a common course of action, the one I would like to suggest is not unheard of.”

He’s got their interest now, he can tell, and the chief councillor leans forward.

“Go on.”

“If I may, I would like to go to the Temple of the Kyber, to join the Guardians of the Whills. There I feel I may better serve the will of the Force.”

He hears the murmurs. It has been some time since an initiate has gone to the Kyber temple, but regardless it is still a viable option. He must give up his saber, he knows that, but he will be allowed to keep the crystal. It’s the best option he can think of.

“Very well. Master Hemor will escort you to your quarters so that you may gather your things. We wish you fortune in your next venture. May the Force be with you, young Imwe.”

He bows low.

“May the Force be with you, Council.”

And that’s that.

******************

Baze doesn’t expect that the next time he sees Chirrut, it will be not in the Jedi temple, but in the Temple of the Kyber. Now the younger boy wears the robes of a Guardian Initiate, and the only thing stopping Baze from approaching him is the fact that he’s walking alongside Guardian Rax and the two seem to be having a serious conversation. He can’t escape the sight of his former mentor though and before he can slip away, he’s called over.

“Ah, Guardian Baze. If I remember correctly, you do not currently have a roommate.”

He shakes his head. It’s true, he doesn’t. The last person he roomed with had been when he was an initiate.

“Good. From henceforth, Initiate Chirrut will be your room mate. I believe you will be able to more easily help him settle in, due to the two of you already being acquainted.”

There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that Baze can’t quite place, but before he can ask any questions, Guardian Rax has disappeared, and he’s left to lead Chirrut along to the living quarters it seems they’re now going to share.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a master, Chirrut,” he says softly as sits on his bed, watching Chirrut unpack his things. He doesn’t have much, a change of robes and a crystal and little else worth mentioning. The boy seems to pause, and although he doesn’t mention it to him, he can sense the hint of disappointment in him.

“All is as the Force wills it. Besides, perhaps I would not have made a good Jedi.”

“What are you talking about?”

A shrug.

******************

Years later, he asks Chirrut what he meant by that statement.

“Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments,” he answers, turning to him with a small smile, “And I had you. I’m not sure I could have given that up.”


End file.
